YES, THERE WAS A PIGEON PATRONIZING OUR COFFEE SHOP…
(…proving some birdbrains do have…some smarts…)

The streets of San Francisco are well cluttered with all sorts of cafes and coffee shops of one kind or another, from the high-end pretentiousness of a Starbucks…to a nearly sawdust-on-the-floor-two-stool-closet-sized-hole-in-the-wall kind…squeezed in between two large buildings. It’s a quite diversified café society environment, with an almost Parisian flavor to it. Accustomed as we are to such a varied “ambiance”, with its peculiarities of offerings and patronage, little should surprise us anymore about what we might encounter whenever we drop into one. Inevitably, however, a surprise always pops up.

This time it was at an occasionally visited place in the Financial District a few weeks ago. Since it was time for a mid-morning coffee and croissant break (okay, some French habits linger on…so sue me), I stopped there and went in. It’s always a pleasant place, mainly because of the way it’s set up. It’s never “noisy” no matter how busy or crowded it might be, because, unlike most other places, the sitting area is raised up almost two feet above the entry level, capped with a front railing, forcing foot traffic to turn and go up a shallow ramp set against the far wall to the serving area way in the back. It’s also well carpeted, with a number of round tables set at decent intervals from each other.

So I followed that ramp way back to the serving counter, schmoozed for a bit with one of its saucy serving wenches, got my order, then went and sat down at a table near the front railing just opposite of the entry doorway, to settled in for a leisurely morning paper read along with my coffee and croissant. A few moments later…came the surprise.

A pigeon, big, dark, and bold as you please, calmly bobbled in off the sidewalk, paused, briefly eyed the two feet of wall in front of him; then, with an obviously well practiced hop, rose to our floor level, slipping smoothly right under the bottom edge of the railing, to land there with hardly a feather out of place. It then began to methodically go from table to table pecking away at any stray tidbits accidentally dropped underneath them. A vacuum cleaner could hardly have done a better job of cleaning that carpeting.

Interesting a spectacle as all that was, the most intriguing thing about it was the fact that none of the other patrons, and none of the shop’s staff, paid any attention to him. It was as if he was one of the regulars there. As it turned out…he apparently was because, when I turned to a nearby patron to question him about the pigeon’s presence, he just smiled, nodded, and said: “Oh, yes! That’s old Louie. Don’t mind him. He comes here every morning about this time. Stays for about an hour, picks the carpet clean, then leaves. Funny thing, though, he’s always alone. It’s as if he’s found a good thing and isn’t about to share it with any other birds.”

Another nearby patron then chimed in, saying:”Yeah, I normally hate pigeons! Flying rats, old Herb Caen called them. Me, I say they’re more like damned buzzards! One of them finds something and a whole mob of them swarms in right behind him. And they’re always pestering you for handouts besides…but not old Louie…he’s different…a classy kind of pigeon. Never tries to hustle anyone for something. Never makes a mess. He just comes in, makes his rounds…and leaves. He’s okay!”

By this time “Louie” apparently finished with his business, bobbled back to the front edge of the sitting area, slipped under the railing again, dropped down to the entry level, went out through the entry doorway…and then flew off. Yes, there was a pigeon patronizing our coffee shop…proving that some birdbrains do have…some smarts.

Now, if there was a way to get the same kind to hang out at City Hall…San Francisco could really be all that it should be.

C’est la vie!

CENTURION